


My Way or the High Way

by Kerkerian



Series: Whumptober 2020 [1]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Mac, Hurt/Comfort, Mac Whump, Manhandling, Mission Related, Papa Jack, Team as Family, Whumptober 2020, emotional Jack whump, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:28:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26777380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerkerian/pseuds/Kerkerian
Summary: Whumptober Prompt Day 3: My way or the highway (manhandled/forced to their knees/held at gunpoint)
Relationships: Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Series: Whumptober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952242
Comments: 21
Kudos: 92
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	My Way or the High Way

**Author's Note:**

> Sadly, I don't own MacGyver.
> 
> I've been so excited about this! I have four finished stories for the Whumptober 2020 challenge and am working on a few others, which I'll hopefully be able to complete in time.  
> Aaaand it's 16 minutes past midnight, so I'mma post this now!  
> Happy Whumping, everyone!

One thing that's always been kind of reassuring for Jack is how Mac, despite appearances, is able to hold his own in a fight. For all his skinniness he's got some real muscles and is much stronger than one might expect. There are certain situations, such as the one they are finding themselves in right now, during which Jack needs to be able to rely on Mac to defend himself sufficiently after all because Jack himself has got his hands full and then some; their intel detailed four hostiles, but Jack alone is at six and counting, and behind him, Mac, who was supposed to locate their objective with one of his thingamajigs, is suddenly grappling with another one.

Number nine however has a gun, and since Jack has run out of ammo and is still busy with taking down number eight manually, he's not fast enough to knock the weapon out of the guy's hand. Behind him, there's an ominous thud; he glances over his shoulder as he's raising his hands and sees Mac sliding down the wall like a rag doll. His heart skips a few beats until he sees Mac moving ever so slightly.

The guy with the gun is now shouting at Jack, who doesn't understand a word since it's all in Serbian, but he nevertheless only turns his attention back to him when he is certain that Mac is still conscious, though he looks stunned: probably hit his head hard.

The guy Mac fought, the _giant_ , to be precise, who apparently threw him against the wall, is checking his felled mates; with a scowl, he says something to the guy with the gun, and Jack doesn't need to speak the language to know that he's pissed. He hasn't even seen the huge guy before, otherwise he'd not let Mac have a go at him, that's for sure.

“Listen, buddy,” he says as airily as he can manage, considering that the situation just turned around rather unfavourably for Mac and him, “I don't know about you, but I'd say we're even, huh? No hard feelings and all that. Why don't you just hand me your gun-” This is as far as he gets before the giant kicks him in the back of his calves, causing him to fall onto his knees rather painfully.

He can't subdue a gasp: “So... you sure you won't at least think about it?”

The guy with the gun just bares his teeth in a sardonic grin and nods at his sidekick, who does exactly what Jack feared and what he didn't, under any circumstances, wanted to happen: he walks over to where Mac is still lying against the wall in a befuddled heap and reaches for him, hauling him up with one large hand around the back of his neck.

Helplessly, Mac tries to get his feet under him as he's being dragged over to the guy with the gun. Jack starts, instinctively wanting to move towards his kid, but reigns himself in because the giant now brings up his other hand around Mac's throat, and the grin he gives Jack is downright evil.

“I dare you,” he growls in a deep voice, and Jack is surprised that he's speaking English after all.

Jack now stills: “Why don't you let go of him and take out your beef with me, huh?” he asks. “I'm the one who knocked out your cronies, after all.”

“Yes, you are,” the giant says, squeezing Mac's throat a little; the latter does his best not to make a sound, but now the giant is lifting him up like that, hands firmly around Mac's neck, and he is starting to choke as his feet are off the ground, clawing at the guy's arm with both hands.

“ _Okay_ ,” Jack yells. “What do you want?”

The giant seems to enjoy himself: he stays like that, choking Mac, who can't but struggle, his toes vainly scrabbling the ground for purchase, and still gives Jack that lazy, complacent grin. Jack wants nothing more than to tear him apart limb by limb.

Mac's face is turning an unhealthy shade of purple when the giant finally drops him: he just lets go, and Mac lands on the floor hard, gasping for air. Before he can so much as try to move, the giant puts his foot on his back to keep him down, his eyes on Jack: “You're here because of the uranium, yes?”

Jack doesn't answer.

Inevitably, the giant puts more pressure on Mac's back, audibly pressing the air out of the latter's lungs. Mac was still wheezing from almost being asphyxiated earlier, and now he sounds choked again.

Jack can feel his own arms getting heavier from holding them up, but that's nothing compared to what his partner must be feeling like. And he doesn't dare to try and surprise-kick the weapon out of the guy's hand now, not when Mac is likely going to be crushed by a colossus in retaliation.

“Yes,” he therefore says resignedly. “We're here for the uranium.”

“Good.” The giant presses down hard once more before he takes his foot off Mac's back; there was a distinct creaking sound just now, and Mac sags, still trying to get his breathing under control.

Jack does his best not look at him: “How's that good for you?” he hears himself say. “You can as well give up now, since we've got backup on its way- if you cooperate, you might even stay alive.”

The giant ignores him: “Who're you working for?” he asks. “Who else knows about the uranium?”

“Doesn't matter,” Jack replies, trying to tune out Mac's pained little gasps. Kid's probably got busted ribs, but Jack can't afford to think about that now. “Since we'll be taking it off your hands and you'll spend the next thirty years in jail, so you really don't have to worry about it any longer.”

He hasn't even finished the last word when the guy with the gun says something, sounding impatient, and the giant bends down again, grabbing Mac and pulling him upright so he's got him in a choke-hold, one bulky arm around his throat, the other in his hair, pulling his head back.

Once more, Mac struggles, trying to kick the guy and hitting him in the stomach with his elbow, neither of which gets a reaction other than a snarl, then the giant pulls Mac's head back more fiercely. From when he was a kid, Jack vividly remembers how much it hurts when someone pulls at your hair, and Mac presumably hit his head earlier. He winces in sympathy when Mac can't subdue another agonized gasp, helpless anger welling up in him afresh: “I'm not gonna tell you anything if you keep doing that,” he says as calmly as he can.

The giant regards him: “You don't seem to understand,” he growls. “ _You_ 're not making the rules here. Either you tell me what I want to know, or I'll start to really hurt him.” For emphasis, he suddenly lets go of Mac's hair and grabs his arm. As if in slow motion, Jack watches him lifting his knee, already knowing what's coming before the giant breaks Mac's arm over his leg like a twig, before he hears the sickening cracking sound and Mac's scream. Jack starts towards him but reigns himself in when the guy with the gun releases the safety on his weapon; it's the hardest thing Jack's ever had to do.

Inwardly, he cringes as Mac's knees buckle from the pain, but the giant still has him restrained, and now his free hand returns to Mac's hair: “We can do this all day,” he says, grinning again. Jack's blood is rushing in his ears and he's boiling with rage now. Mac's gone chalk white, he's panting and holding his broken arm in an awkward angle.

Jack's only hope now is that their comms are still open; for a while, they had gone radio silent in order to not trigger any alarms- in the past, their signals have sometimes interfered with the hostiles' communication devices, which they didn't want to risk. He doesn't hear anything over his ear piece, but maybe Matty and the team are listening in, preferably on their way to assist them.

The giant now raises his eyebrows: “So, what's it gonna be? His other arm or the name of the organization you're working for?”

Jack briefly closes his eyes: “Okay, okay,” he mutters, glancing at Mac, whose eyes are trained on him now; they're glazed and red-rimmed, but they still tell him not to say anything. Jack looks from him to the giant: “We're working for the Foundation for Law and Government,” he says, registering the momentary confusion on Mac's face before he catches on, hoping that gun guy didn't notice it too. In fact, did Mac roll his eyes the tiniest bit there just now? Sheesh!

“I've never heard of that,” the giant says, narrowing his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack quickly continues. “FLAG in short. It's a... public justice organization funded by a private corporation. We champion the cause of the innocent, the helpless, the powerless in a world of criminals who operate above the law.“

Now Mac, despite obviously still being in considerable pain, pointedly does not meet Jack's gaze. The latter clears his throat: “That's why no one else knows about this. That we know of.”

The giant doesn't seem convinced: “But who hired you?”

Jack shrugs: “You're asking the wrong man,” he says. “We're just here to do the footwork. If you want the juicy details, ask Mr. Miles, our boss.”

The giant considers this, talking to his sidekick in Serbian before turning his attention back to Jack: “We'll check your story,” he says. “If you didn't tell the truth...” He reinforces his chokehold around Mac's throat. “You know what'll happen.”

With that, he drags Mac over to a pillar at the far wall. Jack's heart is beating painfully fast as he watches how the brute shoves Mac against it and yanks both arms back so he can tie him up. Mac's face loses all its colour when his broken arm is being treated like that, and he can't but scream. By the time his captor is done, Mac is sagging against the pillar, tears streaming down his contorted face, and he's gasping.

Jack can't take it anymore, and if there ever was a chance, it's now. Unthinkingly, he whirls around, kicking the gun out of the other guy's hand and lunging after it. Even as he lands, he grabs it and turns just as the man has gotten over his momentary shock and gone after him; Jack doesn't hesitate but shoots him, then he scrabbles to his feet, his eyes on the giant.

Who froze ever so briefly when the shot rang out, but immediately started back towards Mac.

Jack is quicker. He draws himself up to his full height, takes aim and releases the trigger. Once a sniper, always a sniper. The first shot hits the giant's calf, and he roars in pains as he goes down; Jack's already running. The giant pulls himself forward, stubbornly attempting to reach Mac in order to use him for leverage once more, but Jack's pissed and he's had enough and he's not gonna let the brute lay his fingers on his kid even more time.

The second shot hits the giant's back. With a resounding _oomph_ , he collapses.

Jack fishes a pair of cable binders out of his pant pocket and binds the guy's hands behind his back: if he survives this, Jack wants him to rot in jail, as promised. For good measure, he pistol-whips him over his head before he straightens up again; can't leave this to chance.

“Matty?” he yells as he makes it the last few meters over to his kid. “You there?”

He doesn't get an answer, not even static. That thought is momentarily driven out of his mind however when he skids to a halt in front of Mac, who's panting and barely able to hold himself upright.

“Hey, hoss,” Jack says tenderly, wanting to touch him but hesitating; he doesn't want to make anything worse. In the end, he just briefly presses a kiss on Mac's forehead: “It's over. I've got you, okay?” Then he points to the rope which the giant used to tie him up: “I'll get you out of that. I'll be careful, promise.”

“Take... m' knife,” Mac manages.

Jack fishes the knife out of Mac's pocket and does his best not to jolt Mac's injured arm too much as he cuts through the rope, but he's not entirely successful. By the time he's done, Mac's eyes are streaming again and he's ashen-faced as he slides down the pillar, cradling his arm to his chest with his other hand.

Jack tucks away the gun, then crouches down next to him, gently cupping his cheek with one hand, putting the other on his shoulder: “You'll be alright,” he says helplessly; he'll probably never be able to unhear those pained little gasps Mac made whenever Jack inadvertently nudged him or the knife slipped off the rope. “Anything I can do?”

Mac shakes his head, then aborts the motion with a wince. His neck and his throat are already beginning to bruise, so no surprise there. Apart from that, Mac's trembling, probably from shock, so Jack takes off his jacket and drapes it around his kid's shoulders: “Comms are still down,” he says softly. “I'll see if I can find a radio, okay?”

Mac nods, though Jack can see that he doesn't like the notion of Jack leaving him. “You rather wanna come with me?” Jack therefore asks.

Averting his gaze, Mac nods, and Jack's heart contracts: _oh, kiddo_ , he thinks.

“Okay. Come on.” It takes a bit of an effort to get Mac to his feet, and he leans heavily into Jack, who supports him with one hand around his back and holding on to his belt with the other, which seems the best option if he doesn't want to hurt him further. Mac feels frail in Jack's grip, and he's still shivering.

In one of the trucks outside, they find a radio. Jack leans Mac against the vehicle and pulls the whole thing out: “Which channel?” he asks softly, if more to distract Mac.

Once they've found the right frequency, it doesn't take long to contact the Phoenix to arrange their exfil. Since there's still the uranium to be taken care of, they'll even be picked up right there and don't have to go anywhere. Considering the state Mac's in, Jack's grateful for that. He helps Mac to climb onto the passenger seat of the car so that he can lean back and close his eyes for a bit, then he pulls out his gun again, just to be safe, before taking up position right next to his partner

“You okay?” the latter asks unexpectedly; he sounds hoarse and exhausted, but Jack's glad to hear his voice. “Yeah. Just a few bruises, unlike you.” Jack sounds almost guilty as he says it.

“I'll be fine,” Mac mutters, though at the moment, he is anything but. He feels nauseous and his entire body hurts from the mistreatment he suffered, most prominently of course his arm, followed closely by his head, neck and back. He still remembers the moment of impact when he hit that wall, and how it rendered him unable to move for quite some time. If only he'd made more of an effort... maybe he'd have been able to fight back better. No one was invincible, one just needed to find their weak spots, as the giant brute had obviously known as well, immediately seeing that Mac was Jack's.

Jack regards him sympathetically: “I'm so sorry,” he mutters. “I wish I could've done something to keep that bastard from hurting you like that.”

“They outnumbered us,” Mac points out reasonably. “'s just back luck.”

“Shouldn't have happened,” Jack murmurs glumly. “Should always be prepared.”

Mac gives a weak chuckle, but quickly stops himself with a choked hiss: “We're only human, Jack,” he then says. The corners of his mouth quirk up ever so slightly: “Or should I call you _Michael_?”

Jack's quiet laugh is somewhat grimly: “It worked, didn't it?”

“Yeah,” Mac concedes, closing his eyes again. “No complaints here.”

“Besides,” Jack nods. “Say what you want about Knight Rider, but that's one cool car.”

“I'll ask Matty if we can get one, though I'm pretty sure I already know the answer.” Mac doesn't open his eyes again, and Jack regards him concernedly: he knows that Mac is trying to pretend that he's okay now, for Jack's sake, but he's not fooling his partner.

“Yeah,” he says softly, reaching up to gently stroke Mac's cheek with the back of his fingers once, twice. “You do that.”

Mac briefly opens one eye, smiles a tiny bit and closes the eye again, too depleted to continue their conversation.

Fortunately, it doesn't take long until they can hear several approaching choppers.

“... _the powerless in a world of criminals who operate above the law_.“ Jack's voice is ominous.

“I don't know what's more disturbing- that you knew that by heart or that they actually fell for it.” Riley sounds amused.

“Hey, I was about nine when it first aired. It was the coolest show on TV back then. We all wanted to be the lone crusader with the awesome ride. Until Airwolf aired two years later, of course. After that, we wanted a chopper.”

“Well, the awesome ride you got, I gotta give you that. The lone crusader though...” Riley trails off.

“Weeell- if you think about it, the crusaders weren't actually that great. Went and used violence to impose their faith on others. Our Jack here is nothing like that.” Bozer sounds affectionate.

“No, you're right. If he wants to convince you of something he believes in, he'll just talk your ear off until you're too exhausted to resist anymore.”

“Very funny.”

“True though. You got me to sit through all of Moonlighting with you, after all.”

“Excuse me, 'sit through'? And I stand by my statement that Moonlighting is an early Bruce masterpiece.”

“Huh. Says the guy who can quote the entire intro narration of Knight Rider.”

Mac smiles as he listens to his friends' banter and quiet laughter, unaware that he's doing so. Their voices began to drift into the darkness and slowly pulled him back to the surface, and now he's been awake for a while, apparently. He's still a little fuzzy as to why he's been sleeping, but now the slight pressure on his hand which he didn't even notice before increases: “Mac, buddy? You awake?”

Mac blinks, his eyes feeling a little gritty, and Jack's face swims into focus. He looks relieved: “Hey, kiddo,” he says tenderly. “How're you feeling?”

And now everything comes back to him. Well, almost. The last thing he remembers is being on the medevac chopper, after that he draws a blank. But this is Phoenix medical, so he must have been out quite a while. He blinks again: ”Tired,” he murmurs.

Jack smiles at him fondly: “Figures. You had to have surgery on your arm, and when you woke up the first time, you puked your guts out, as usual after anesthesia.”

Mac frowns: “Woke up already?”

“You don't remember?”

“No...” It explains the soreness in this throat though.

“Well, it's probably for the best. You got a few cracked ribs on your back, so... wasn't exactly pleasant.” In fact, Jack was rather shaken afterwards. When Mac came around, he immediately turned white; since it wasn't his first surgery at Phoenix medical, everyone had been prepared, but the agony which the throwing up inflicted upon his partner's battered body was terrible to witness.

Mac had passed right out again afterwards, and the nurse had been so worried that she stayed with them for a considerable while until she was sure that Mac's vitals were stable.

Mac blinks; at the moment, he feels rather detached from his body. He is vaguely aware that his arm is heavily bandaged and immobilized and that moving in general isn't really an option, but that's fine. He can't find it in himself to mind right now.

“Hey,” Bozer and Riley, who kept in the background so far, now say simultaneously. Bozer reaches for Mac's good hand: “I thought we had agreed not to keep ending up in here, bro.”

Mac regards him with a faint smile: “Y'should've seen the other guy. Twice my size.”

At that, Jack quietly shakes his head with amused resignation and holds up four fingers.

Bozer looks from him to his friend: “Well. I'm glad we got you back in one piece,” he says softly, squeezing Mac's hand.

Riley leans over the railing and kisses Mac's temple: “Get some rest, okay?”

When Matty comes in a while later, Mac has dozed off again, but Jack is still there with him, despite the fact that he is dead on his feet by now, since he has barely slept recently. He can't shake off the images of Mac being helpless in the hands of the giant brute though, and every time he closes his eyes, he sees those. For some reason, he can't but think that he failed his partner, that he should've been able to do something. Protect him better, do his damn job right.

Matty looks at Jack, the way his shoulders slump from fatigue and the weight he is permanently bearing, his hand firmly grasping Mac's, and subdues a sigh. She knows how Jack looks when he's on a guilt trip, and the way things went sideways this time, he's predestined to think it's his fault.

“Hey,” she says softly, in order not to startle him as she comes to stand next to him. “How's our boy doing?”

Jack doesn't look at her, as his eyes are fixed on Mac's weary features: “Should be alright now,” he mutters, his voice gravelly. “Had a hard time coming out of the anesthesia earlier.”

Matty nods. “Well, I've just gotten off the phone with the Serbian Foreign Office,” she says. “For now, we managed to come to an agreement.” She pauses. “And I've realized that I need to raise the bar when it comes to our intel.”

That finally garners a reaction. Jack barely moves his head, but he glances at her: “Don't we already have the best there is? I mean, every source is being triple and quadruple checked, right?”

“Right,” Matty confirms. “And yet. Incidents like this one... Riley and I have already talked about a new software that reads facial expressions and also analyzes speech.”

“Like a lie detector?”

“Kind of.”

Jack considers this: “Wow. Brave new world.”

“Not really.” Matty sighs: “It's a brave old world already. We're just piling on.”

“Yeah.”

They are silent for a while.

“Things like this are still gonna happen, you know,” Jack mutters eventually.

“I know. But I feel it's my fault that Mac's lying here, and I'd like to at least try and prevent a repetition.”

“ _Your_ fault?” Now Jack actually turns his head to look at her. His eyes are bloodshot and the lines on his face are more pronounced, and Matty's heart goes out to him.

“Yes,” she says softly. “I gave you bad intel and didn't consider it necessary to send the whole team. If I had, things might have turned out differently.”

“Or they'd all be lying here,” Jack mutters darkly.

Matty regards him: “You know that this isn't your fault either, right?”

“Debatable.”

“No.” The sudden sharpness in her tone surprises Jack.

“No?” he asks.

“No! It's not your fault, Jack. The situation got out of hand, and considering that there were two of you and ten of them, it's a miracle you both got out alive!”

“Yeah, but... look at him.” Jack's eyes are actually getting moist. “The guy who did this... he was huge, Matty, and he came out of nowhere. Mac didn't have a chance. You know the Muppets? It's like... like that tiny little nephew of Kermit trying to fight one of those really big monsters.”

At that, Matty opens her mouth to speak, but Jack doesn't notice it: “He tortured him to get me to talk, and he did it so casually and without much preamble- it was like a nightmare come true. One minute, we're fine, the next, I'm being held at gunpoint while Mac is being... choked, and having his arm broken and whatnot.”

He sniffles, turning his head away and blinking furiously. “We've been in so many worse scrapes, really bad and scary situations, but this... it was like walking down the street on a sunny day and suddenly, everything's wrong.”

Matty puts her hand on Jack's arm: “I'm sorry,” she says gently, refraining from telling him that this is also part of the risks their job entails, because he knows it, of course. But he's exhausted and worried about his kid, and on some days, he can't deal with things as well as on others.

Jack nods, wiping his free hand over his eyes: “Thank you,” he mutters.

Matty gives him a smile: “Mac's one tough cookie. He'll be fine.”

“I know.”

“Don't ever let him hear you comparing him to a cute little frog though.”

Despite himself, Jack snorts a brief laugh: “I won't. He may be cute alright, but the little nerd's got a surprisingly mean right hook.”

Matty grins, but her gaze is still concerned: “If the really big monster guy came out of nowhere, you wouldn't have seen him either, and he'd easily have tortured you too, Jack. You know that, right?”

Eventually, Jack nods. “Yeah,” he says, a little watery. “I do.” But it's good to hear it from someone else nevertheless.

“Okay.” Matty pauses, regarding him sympathetically: “Why don't I take over for a while and you go and get some rest?”

Jack's gaze wanders over Mac's still figure, then he shakes his head: “Not yet,” he says softly. “I... Maybe after he's woken up the next time.”

“'kay.” Matty squeezes his arm: “You know where to find me.”

“Yeah.” A tiny, grateful smile flits over Jack's face now. “Thanks, Matty.”

She turns to go but stops once more: “About that car- I'm afraid our budget doesn't cover customized 1982 Pontiac Firebirds, but if you manage to acquire one, Riley might be able to help you with the software. During her free time, of course.”

After a moment of comprehension, Jack sighs long-sufferingly: “Figures. Do I at least get that awesome red front scanner? I'm sure if Mac and Bozer put their heads together-”

“We'll see.” Rolling her eyes but smiling, Matty leaves the room.

Jack turns back to his charge, pulling the chair closer and shifting his position a little so that he curl up against the backrest and get a bit more comfortable without letting go of Mac's hand: “In case you heard all of this... I know you're able to defend yourself, just to be clear. In fact, you keep amazing me with all that you do and what you're capable of, kiddo. I'm so proud of you...” He smiles tenderly.

“It just hurts seeing you like this, you know?” he then says. “Especially when it could have been avoided.” He sighs. “Maybe we should add a taser to your little knife, since you won't use a gun.”

Tiredly, he closes his eyes: “If we'd had a car like K.I.T.T., we could've just run the guy over.” He pauses, considering. “Ew. Or maybe not, I guess that would've been really messy... Maybe K.I.T.T. would've shielded us from the gun instead so I could've clocked that giant brute one good... yeah, that sounds about right... and then we'd have put him in the trunk, and on our way to exfil, we'd have hit every pothole available...” His voice slowly peters out.

Riley, who's just come in again with a coffee for Jack, shakes her head, unable to subdue a grin: “Did you just... talk yourself to sleep? With _Knight Rider_ fanfiction?” She puts the coffee down, smiling fondly, and goes to find a blanket for Jack. He won't leave Mac's side that night, no matter what that is going to do to his own back, but she can at least try and make it a little more comfortable for him.

Jack mumbles something unintelligible when Riley covers him with the blanket, but he doesn't wake up anymore.

“G'night,” Riley whispers, looking from him to Mac before she turns to go.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm not a Native Speaker, therefore I apologize for any mistakes. 
> 
> The inspiration for Mac not coping well with anesthesia came from my poor mom, who always throws up after surgery. 
> 
> Oh, and Knight Rider isn't mine either. =)


End file.
